CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO #2
Rather than a theme song, the hush around me turns into aggressive murmurs. This is biker territory and Byron just crossed a line. I consider running, but this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since I stepped foot in this dive.
My boots stay glued to the sticky floor. It’s not my responsibility to teach him the rules. If he’s old enough to have gray in his beard, he should be wise enough to know better.
When his haze meets mine, an electric charge surges between us. I swallow a gasp as his glare melts into a smolder. There’s a glint of humor buried in there. The expression ignites my veins and I’m engulfed in his blatant desire. Fuck, I should’ve ditched this shit hole when I had the chance.
The angry mob parts, allowing him to walk the plank toward me. I keep my chin held high as many turn the scope of their fury. It appears we’ll go down together for his mistake.
My jaw is clenched and about to snap in half when he reaches me. “Do you have a death wish?” I hiss.
Byron has the audacity to smirk. “I’ve got you to protect me, little menace. You don’t look all that homicidal this evening, though. What’s with the rhinestones?”
After a scathing roll of my eyes, I grasp his arm and drag him to the nearest corner for some semblance of privacy. I whirl on him and stab a finger into his chest. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing here?”
“Finding you. That’s the point of the game, right?”
My belly doesn’t swoop. Definitely not. “Ronnie told you?”
“Of course,” he grunts. “She was thrilled at the illusion of you being trapped in a tower and I arrive just in time to rescue you. It’s ‘romantical’. Her words, not mine.”
I quirk a brow. “And what’s all this nonsense about you taking me out on a date?”
The lighting in here is piss poor, but I swear he blushes. “Dennis and Ronnie were behind that. I just went along with it to get them off my back.”
“We’re not going on a date.”
He lifts his hands. “Fine by me.”
I huff at his easy surrender. “How did you know where I was?”
“Your phone’s location is shared with mine,” he states casually.
Meanwhile, it feels like I’m imploding. My muscles vibrate, coiling tight in preparation to launch an attack. “That’s a massive invasion of my privacy! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
His eyes widen as if I’m overreacting. “It’s a precaution for Ronnie. I need to be able to track you when you’re not at the house.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that?”
“My fault. I was under the assumption you’d blow it out of proportion. I can see now that it would’ve been a rational conversation.” The sarcasm dripping from his voice isn’t appreciated.
“You’re diabolical. I haven’t taken Ronnie anywhere by myself yet. Someone is still chaperoning as if I’m capable of hurting her.” The thought alone makes me sick.
Byron’s wince does little to soothe me. “Wasn’t sure you were ready.”
“Could’ve asked!” I toss my arms up. “About all of it.”
“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” His eyes gleam as he recycles my phrase. “As I said, it’s a precaution.”
“I’m going to take that word and shove it—”
“Can we discuss the glitter and sparkles yet?”
My nostrils breathe fire. “Gifts from your daughter.”
“Gotta be honest,” he chuckles. “I’m shocked you kept them on.”
“Goes to show how little you think of me,” I fire in return.
“If only you thought of me at all,” he rumbles.
The selfish insinuation makes me want to scream. Fury rises in me like an uncontrollable storm. “But I do! Constantly. That’s the problem. You’ve tainted me.”
“In what ways?” Byron towers over my shorter height, blocking out the mayhem around us.
At this distance, his woodsy cologne completely masks the stench of damp carpet and uncivilized savagery. I could almost pretend we’re somewhere else. His stare anchors mine, beckoning me to delve in. To get lost in this darkened escape. But then a beer bottle breaks and shatters the fantasy.
My eyes clench shut, refusing to face the reality of our situation. “I used to be perfectly content in a place like this. It’s where I fit in. But now? I can’t see past the rot and cracks and ruin.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he murmurs.
“Easy for you to say. You live in that world. I’m just visiting.”
Byron’s thumb traces the upturned shape of my jawline. “There’s no going back, menace.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” And the misery in my voice proves it.
His smirk is obnoxious. It makes me want to punch him. “You missed me.”
That deserves a jab to the arm, which I deliver automatically. “I most certainly did not.”
“No? Should I leave?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Byron tips his hat and begins backing away.
This strange, reckless abandon bubbles up from my gut. It tries to strangle me. I struggle against the force, refusing to surrender. But the rush of desperation is crippling.
“Wait!”
He pauses. “Change your mind?”
My bottom lip is tortured between my teeth. “You shouldn’t be driving right now. There are a lot of irresponsible idiots on the road.”
“Are you concerned for my safety?”
I glance around the bar. Many are still glaring in our direction, likely to inflict pain. A smart person would read the room and seek shelter elsewhere. Based on the cowboy cooties wafting over me, I’m not in my most intelligent mindset.
“This doesn’t mean I’m kissing you at midnight,” I mutter.
Byron’s grin isn’t dissuaded in the least. “What if my tongue is in your pussy?”
My body goes unnaturally still. The air seems to freeze. Static crackles as I try to process his request.
Many months ago, a random guy who crossed my path was in a generous mood and begged to go down on me.
He was hot and I was curious. Nobody had ever done that to me before.
But just as he was about to get after it, I shoved him away.
Something about it didn’t feel right. Most likely accepting that level of intimacy.
“Hey,” Byron whispers. “What’s going on up here?”
My temples are throbbing to an erratic beat. “I’m having entirely too many intrusive thoughts at once.”
“Tell me a few.”
A tremble rolls through me from tit to toe. “I have the urge to threaten you with bodily harm while simultaneously riding your face.”
Lust darkens his gaze. “That can be arranged.”
I lick at my suddenly dry lips, trying to drag in a full breath. “Deal.”
And then we’re on the move. My hand latches onto his for the sole purpose of dragging him to the opposite end of the bar. Byron doesn’t question me. The devious plotting reflected in my expression is frightening enough to remove innocent bystanders out of my way. But our path is suddenly blocked.
“Is this man bothering you, babe?”
I lurch to a halt when met by a burly chest the size of a barrel. My gaze climbs a long, gravelly path to the rough planes of a weathered face. The man’s scowl looks more deadly than a loaded weapon.
A breezy laugh wisps from me. “He’s the one you should be worried about. I’m taking him to the office.”
A chorus of mock fear erupts from our audience. The guy still acting like a noble speed bump assesses me coldly. I treat him to the same offense. We’re locked in a standoff that he’ll lose. After ten more dreadfully long seconds, he decides to not let the gaudy bling fool him and steps aside.
My punishing glare slices across the captivated gawkers. “Don’t even think about following us.”
I yank on Byron’s hand and set us in motion again. He’s quiet, but I can feel the question burning into my back. We turn into the short hallway that brings us to a soundproof door.
“What’s in there?”
I smile while grabbing a particular pin from my hair. “You’ll see.”
Byron coughs on his surprise when I pick all three locks in under a minute. “Tight security.”
My shrug is casual as I push into the dark room. “If you can’t get yourself in, you don’t have permission to use it.”
I walk a line forged from memory. A single lightbulb dangles in the middle, flickering on from a pull of the string.
The windowless room looks the same. Beer kegs and other random crap are piled against one wall.
The other three hold an assortment of weapons.
There’s a chair bolted into the floor. Chains and ropes wait at the ready beside it.
Nothing else is worth notice. My pulse skips a beat while I give every surface a second glance.
It’s a mixture between torture chamber and storage closet.
Byron spins in a slow circle. “What the fuck?”
A flash of movement slams us together. My knife is pressed against his throat in the next second. One wrong move and his jugular is at risk of severing. I’m volatile and unapologetic. If he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t tolerate me.
“I’ll be the one asking questions,” I seethe.
He gulps, but his body language is calm otherwise. “Whatever you say, menace.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“You.”
“Will you let me carve my name in your chest?”
He blindly rips at the top buttons of his western shirt. “Do it.”
I cluck my tongue. “You have to earn it. Are you going to behave?”
There’s a naughty curve on his mouth. “Yes.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Yes,” he repeats.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t.”
My sharp blade lifts from his skin. There’s a small cut left in its wake, beading with a few drops of blood. A burst of satisfaction fills me. He looks even sexier with a fresh mark from me on him.
I back myself into the narrow gap framed by shelves of ammunition and racks of guns. A motion from my knife instructs him to follow. Byron obeys instantly.
“Get down on your knees.” The tip of my blade points to the spot.
He lowers without hesitation, looking at me for the next command.
“Good boy,” I praise.
But now I’m at a loss. This is when I enter uncharted territory. Stagnant heat spits from the vent in a rattle, calling out the awkward lapse. My bravado quivers for a moment too long. Byron notices and slowly lifts his hands toward my waist.
“May I?”